


Their Song

by SmaugsKomTrikru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Character Death, Depression, F/M, Mental Illness, Modern AU, i mean i still am but yeah, idk i was depressed when i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6886627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmaugsKomTrikru/pseuds/SmaugsKomTrikru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was depressed at like 2 AM listening to The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice and this was the outcome I'm so sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Song

“Clarke, you can’t stay locked up in your apartment forever, it’s not going to bring him back…” Octavia’s voice was muffled through Clarke’s front door of what was once hers and Bellamy’s shared apartment. Now it was only Clarke’s apartment.

Clarke slid onto the ground in front of what used to be hers and Bellamy’s brown sofa and rested her head against it.

“Please open the door, Clarke. We haven’t seen you in days and we’re really worried about you.”

“Go away!” she screeched at the top of her lungs, her voice breaking, as she tossed an empty wine bottle at her wooden door which shattered on impact. The shards fell to the floor, and footsteps behind the other side of the door faded down the hallway.

5 days ago, Clarkes world had been pulled out from under her feet when Octavia knocked at her door at 3:23 AM on a Wednesday night. Clarke opened the door completely confused as to why Octavia was crying at her door, wondering if her and Lincoln had another argument, and why it couldn’t wait until the morning. She had to be up at 5 to go to work at the hospital.

She remembered asking Octavia what happened, pulling her into her apartment and sitting her down on the sofa. Why wouldn’t she stop crying?

“Clarke, I need you to sit down,”

Clarke sat down next to Octavia, a knot beginning to form in her stomach. “O, what’s wrong?”

“Clarke… it’s Bellamy,” she could barely get the words past her lips. “You need to get to the hospital right now.”

Clarke remembered how confused she was. Why was her fiancé at the hospital? He was supposed to be at work, keeping the streets of New York safe. She could still feel the odd nauseating feeling in her stomach from that night.

Together, her and Octavia headed off to the hospital that was just 15 minutes away from her and Bellamy’s apartment, although the drive felt like hours to Clarke. Octavia didn’t get much explanation from the police when they called her. The only thing they said was that her older brother had been in an accident at work and that she needed to come right away. That things didn’t look too well for him.

Even now Clarke could still clearly remember how she felt when she walked into the ICU of the hospital she worked at, the hospital that was practically her second home, and saw Bellamy hooked up to machines that were fighting to keep him alive. Everything around her disappeared. There was a loud, high pitched ringing noise that drowned out every other noise around her except the beeping of the machine that displayed Bellamy’s vital signs.

Tubes and wires were sticking out of him from every which direction. The doctors explained to her that Bellamy and his partner Miller, had a confrontation with a well-known drug dealer who pulled a gun on the two and shot Bellamy multiple times, before Miller put a bullet in the dealers head. They tried to explain to her what this meant, how critical his condition was, that he might not wake up, etc. etc. But Clarke didn’t need an explanation. She was in the hospital’s residency program and knew exactly what would happen next.

Clarke was sat by his bed-side for 3 days, clinging to his hand, contemplating whether or not to take Bellamy off of life support. As a surgeon in training, she knew that the chances of him waking up were very slim, but part of her knew that he was fighting to wake up. But he didn’t fight hard enough. His heart beat slowed Saturday evening, before it faded all at once and the machine let out an endless beep.

Pushing herself off the ground of her living room floor, Clarke shuffled over to the shelf where they kept their favorite albums, before dropping down in front of the shelf and letting her fingers run over the backs of the CD cases. She remembered buying every single one of them with Bellamy at the little music shop around the corner. Bellamy introduced her to the shop on their first date, letting her pick out an album, before taking her to a place that overlooked New York and playing the CD on his car stereo.

Her finger stopped on exactly that album, and she pulled it out. For a moment Clarke examined the plastic case as it slightly trembled in her hand, remembering that night as if it happened yesterday. Absentmindedly, she took the CD out of its case and pushed it into the stereo. The first song began to play, and Clarke laid down on the cool wooden floor of what was now only her living room. By now she was sure that the neighbors were sick and tired of her blasting these albums all day long, but Clarke didn’t care. Listening to these songs made her feel like Bellamy was still with her.

For a while, Clarke did nothing but lay there completely numb, eyes closed as she soaked in the music. Three songs later, she began to weep. Memories of the love of her life flooded back and flashed in front of her eyes as she sobbed violently, tears and snot running down her face.

That’s when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder that made her jump up into a sitting position.

“Bellamy?” she whispered softly, disbelief and pain filling her voice. How was he here? He was dead, she watched his monitor flat line.

Not saying a word, Bellamy pulled her off the ground and pulled her against his chest, his face buried in her hair that hadn’t been washed in nearly a week. Clarke wrapped her arms around him tightly, not questioning how or why he was here, but only enjoying the fact that she could hug the man she thought to be dead.

She pulled away and looked into his brown eyes that made her fall in love with him over and over again every time she looked into them, tears silently streaming down her pink cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much, Bellamy,” Clarke let out a sob as he wiped the tears from her face, pressed a kiss against her forehead and pulled her against him one again, humming along to the song softly.

Clarke could feel the vibration of his hum in his chest as she rested her face against it. All the pain from the past few days was gone. For once, she was happy and didn’t feel like a huge hole had been punched through her chest where her heart was supposed to be.

Together the two of them began to sway along to the song, slow-dancing through the room to the song they shared their first kiss to. The song that made Clarke realize that she was falling in love with Bellamy Blake. The song that became their song.

“Don’t ever leave me again, Bellamy Blake,” she whispered against his chest, her eyes closed tightly as she tried to fight back more tears.

“I’ll always be here with you, Clarke” Bellamy responded softly, burying his face in her hair. “I won’t leave you, I promise.”

That’s when Clarke opened her eyes and found herself on the floor of what was once her and Bellamy’s living room, what was now only her living room, the song that was once their song ending on the stereo, and Clarke broke out into a wave of tears.

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me about it on tumblr @smaugskomtrikru


End file.
